Severus' Pensieve
by Severus'LadyLyn
Summary: SPOILERS-All five books. My adaptation, from Severus' perspective, of "Snape's Worst Memory" in OotP. Harry finds his own way out of the Pensieve, and leaves the office without getting caught. But what happens the following evening if Severus accesses Har


Summary: This story is my adaptation of "Snape's Worst Memory" from _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_. Harry finds his own way out of the Pensieve, and leaves the office without getting caught. Then, as Severus suggests, Harry returns the following evening to resume the lesson, feeling even more apprehensive about disregarding Severus' instructions to practice, Cho, AND now having trespassed in the Pensieve. The scene is told from Severus' perspective, and he easily accesses Harry's mind and discovers, among other items, his own private, dreadful memories within the younger wizard's thoughts.   
  


I do not think that you must have read the book to appreciate the story, but I strongly suspect that it would be a good idea! LOL

In this piece, I do not attempt to emulate JKR's writing style, rather, I have 'borrowed' from her work's foundations and, I hope, have added my own unique, imaginative response to her text - whilst yet maintaining the credibility of the situations and characters. I hope you enjoy the story, and welcome all questions or comments you might wish to offer.:)

Disclaimer: These characters belong to the wonderful JKR. The events in my story are based upon her "Harry Potter" novels. No money is being made. I love these characters too much to leave them alone; however, I promise to play nicely and put them back properly where I find them.:)

Severus Snape strode purposefully from his private rooms at the top of Serpens Tower, hardly needing to pause as he secured and warded the door.  The Potions Master's habitual movements carried him with the silence and elegance of a cat, his voluminous black robes billowing in his immediate wake.  Moving towards the dungeons, he did not expect to encounter any students at this hour; most were still at dinner in the Great Hall.  But when he sharply rounded the corner of the main passage that led to the library and the stairs to the dungeons, he nearly collided with a first-year Hufflepuff.  In the interests of avoiding an accident, Severus' faster reflexes enabled him to grasp the startled girl by the shoulders, and brusquely guide her out of his path; of course, he also graced her with his trademark scowl.  After all, he did have a reputation to uphold.

The young student in question regarded him as he continued on his way and thought, "He really does look like a nasty old bat."

Severus was too preoccupied with his own musings to give the brief incident much consideration; usually, he would have soundly berated the luckless pupil for not paying attention to where she was going and deducted house points.  If he was in an especially foul mood, which most Hogwarts residents would argue was the rule rather than the exception, the offending student could also expect a detention. 

As it was, he still seethed over the ludicrous events of the previous evening, as well as having to deal with Harry Potter for the second consecutive night.  Severus had been giving Potter his weekly Occlumency lesson, when Malfoy interrupted them and said that the Potion Master's assistance was required on the fourth floor, where a missing student had turned up jammed in a toilet.  Severus did not relish participating in such a rescue operation (anymore than he delighted in teaching Potter how to defend his mind against external penetration), but nonetheless responded to the urgency of the situation, and heading towards the office door, dismissively instructed Potter to return the following evening to resume the lesson.  

Extracting the student from the toilet and escorting him to the hospital wing had been an exhaustive, if not most unpleasant experience.  The assault on his sensitive, highly developed olfactory sense alone had yielded no quarter.  The Head of Slytherin House could think of countless more constructive ways to pass his evening.   When he finally returned to his office, biting his resentment, he realised that in his hurry on his way out he had not locked the door.  Of course not - Potter was last to vacate the room, but at least the boy had the common sense to close the door behind him.  

Severus advanced to the Pensieve, a device capable of storing one's personal thoughts or memories and allowing that person (or another) to view them, waiting on his desk.  When Albus had first asked him to instruct Potter in the art of Occlumency, Severus had not hesitated to voice his reservations.

"Headmaster, with due respect, I find it highly unlikely that Potter would benefit from my tutelage," he began.

"I sympathise with your dislike" _[Albus, you have a gift for euphemisms.] _"for the boy and his father.  However, Severus, you are a master Occlumens and therefore perfectly qualified for the post."

Before responding, the Potions Master allowed himself a soft snort at the Headmaster's ineffectual attempt to appeal to his vanity.  "But, surely you...." 

"As much as I would like to assume the responsibility, I fear I cannot for numerous reasons, not the least of which concerns the obvious danger of opening Mr. Potter's mind even further to Voldemort whilst in my presence."  Albus peered at Severus over the rim of his half-moon glasses.  "But you already know this."

Severus gave a brief, reluctant nod.  "However, I had hoped to reduce the stack of parchment on my desk waiting to be graded, prepare lectures for my students due to sit their O.W.L.S. and N.E.W.T.S this year, as well as continue with various potions research and experiments."

"You amaze me.  With all of that in your diary, how ever do you manage to teach your classes?"  Albus asked, his blue eyes twinkling.

An impatient sigh escaped the younger wizard's breath.

"Seriously," the Headmaster continued, "we could be headed for another war.  Moreover, it is essential that Voldemort not have access to Harry Potter's thoughts.  I shall not insult your intelligence by stressing the gravity of our situation." __

"Albus, there is also the matter of personal memories.  If Potter should _accidently_ find his way into...."  His voice was very quiet, and trailed off.  He moved his gaze towards the window behind the Headmaster's desk.  The advent of dusk had produced a riot of vermillion, ochreous, and damask roseate tints illuminating the clouds at the horizon's edge, which now submitted to the soothing hue of deepest azure-amethyst.

Again the twinkle appeared in Albus' eyes as he regarded Severus over his glasses.  "Is there any danger of that?"  he queried with apparent innocence.

Severus shot his gaze back to the Headmaster's face, and the left corner of his mouth twitched in annoyance as he regained his hauteur.  "I think not," he answered flatly, infusing his voice with a hint of his customary sarcasm.

Albus smiled inwardly. "Nonetheless, your point is well taken, and I believe that some form of 'insurance' is in order.  I can offer you a solution."

"I suspected as much," Severus responded with an inflection drier than the Sahara.  He knew exactly what Albus had in mind.

The older wizard was quite accustomed to his Potion Master's ill temper and sarcastic wit.  Albus rose from his chair and advanced towards one of the many shelves that lined his circular office.  "I know I can rely upon you, Severus, and your sense of duty, especially towards those entrusted into your care - a quality within you that I've long esteemed greatly."  He smiled pleasantly, bothered neither by Severus' lack of response to the compliment, nor by his dark but resigned countenance, and gently handed him the Pensieve.

Placing the fingers of his left hand upon his desk, Severus used his wand in his other hand to carefully remove his thoughts from the Pensieve and return them to his mind, touching his wand to the silky roots of his hair at his temple.  He then secured and warded the office door before retiring to Serpens Tower for the night.

Now having reached his office the following evening, he performed the process in reverse, replacing certain memories back in the Pensieve for the duration of Potter's lesson, thus ensuring that the boy would never see them.  However, it probably was an unnecessary precaution.  Apart from the one incident where Potter shakingly shouted the Protego spell, and had caught only a few brief glimpses of Severus' youth, an invasion that the older wizard dexterously repelled, there had been no other surprises in his student's progress.  The utilization of the spell, whilst momentarily effective, was unlikely to have been a calculated move on Potter's part, merely an accidental bit of luck for a pathetic beginner.  After over two months of lessons, the boy was still not strong and focused enough to breach again the inner layers of the Potion Master's expertly disciplined mental barriers.  Moreover, he remained convinced that the younger wizard continued to neglect his instructions to practice clearing his mind of thoughts and emotions each night before bed.  No wonder that Potter's abilities in this field, questionable though they undoubtedly were, remained incarcerated under the self-inflicted curse of stagnation.

Severus immediately recognised his student's approach to the office.  A somewhat heavy, dragging, and almost apprehensive step on the dungeon flagstones.  _[He sulks again, and does not want to learn from me anymore than I care to teach him.  Then again, I have a job to accomplish, and if he never masters more than the merest speck of Occlumency, the fault shall not rest with me.]  _The Potion Master's severe mouth set in a thin, grim line of determination, as he heard Potter enter the office after a perfunctory knock.

Without turning to regard the boy, he said in a low, smooth tone, "In future, Mr. Potter, you will wait for an acknowledgement from me before entering my office. I shall not warn you again.  Are you clear about this?"

"Crystal," came the muttered response.

Severus turned to face his pupil with the velocity of a striking viper, his obsidian eyes glittering dangerously.  "I beg your pardon?" he queried, his voice deceptively civil.

"Yes, Professor Snape,"  Harry uttered between clenched teeth.

"Have you kept up with your practicing?"

"Yes, sir," Harry lied, looking away from the Potion Master's face - a moment too late.

Severus smirked inwardly at confirmation of what he suspected.  "Should you again insult my intelligence with your deceit, you will scrub cauldrons for a month or," his dark eyes narrowed, punctuating the significance of the words, murmured in his deep, velvet voice, "would you prefer detention with Professor Umbridge?"  An unspoken 'again' lingered in the air.

Harry's breath caught in his throat, recalling those hellacious hours with the evil Umbridge and the painful 'I must not tell lies' line etching itself deeper into his hand, and in due course drawing blood, as she forced him to copy those words over and over again with a magical quill.  Still rather nervous, he also experienced a rapidly rising fury, and stammered testily, "N-No, _Professor_.  I'm s-sorry, _sir_," his eyes fixed upon a point beyond his teacher's left shoulder.

"Mind your insolent tone, Potter.  I shall not tolerate that either,"  Severus answered in warning, his gaze intently studying the boy. 

A tense, angry silence hung between them.

"Shall we begin?"  It was a directive as opposed to a question.  "Potter, prepare yourself.  On the count of three."  He pointed his wand towards his student.

Harry assumed the familiar stance, wand at the ready, and attempted desperately to rid himself of the plethora of emotions and thoughts raging within his head.

"One....two.....three...._Legilimens!_"

Not for the first time, scenes from Potter's past flashed through Severus' mind.  The boy's old room in the Muggle world - a cupboard under the stairs.....Frequent rows with his uncle......Torment from his aunt......Multiple moments of merciless teasing from the boy's cousin_[An ironic twist of fate that in our respective ways we should share something in common.]......_Potter under the Sorting Hat hoping to be placed in any House but Slytherin_[One of the very few wise moves on his part.]_.....His small bedroom upstairs, used to belong to his spoiled cousin....

"_Discontinuare!_" Serverus removed the spell with an impatient snort.  Disdainfully, he regarded his student, who had fallen back into a chair and was attempting to catch his breath.  "Clearly, you want to improve your concentration and emotional control.  Need I repeat the most efficacious method to accomplish this?" he asked silkily.

"No, Professor Snape."

"Then prove that I have not entirely wasted my valuable evenings during the last few months, and indeed you have occasionally extended me the courtesy of at least listening to, albeit not following, my instructions.  Impress me with your knowledge."  His words dripped with sarcasm.

 "I must try to empty my mind of all thoughts and emotions each night before I go to sleep,"  Harry muttered.

"I did not quite hear you, Potter."

"I - must - try - to - empty - my - mind - of - all - thoughts - and - emotions - each - night - before - I - go - to - sleep, - _sir_,"  Harry repeated, a bit louder, exaggerating each word as if addressing an especially dim-witted child.  He knew he would pay for his cheek, but he did not care, and his loathing of the man in front of him made him reckless.

"You have earned detention with Mr. Filch."  

Harry fought to suppress a shrug, and kept his eyes on the left side of his chair.  

"As well as twenty points from Gryffindor."  
  


Harry looked up at his teacher, who regarded him coldly, arms folded across his chest.  Now he felt guilty and angry that his House should also suffer for his own boorishness.  "That's not fair....." he began.

"Another five points deducted for answering back."

Harry opened his mouth in protest.

"Would you care to try for an additional ten?" asked Severus, bland as milk.

Wisely, Harry remained silent.

"Now, Potter, do you think you can restrain your impudence for the duration of the lesson?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well then, let's try again."

Harry rose, and faced the formidable Potions Master.

"Again, on the count of three.  One....two.....three...._Legilimens!_"

Severus saw more of Harry's memories.  The encounter between Potter and the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets.......Finding out that Black was his godfather.....Dementors and discovering his Patronus......Returning with Mr. Diggory's body after dueling with the Dark Lord......

"_Discontinuare!_" For a moment, Severus regarded the boy, and then remarked dryly, "At least you remained on your feet that time.  I suppose that is some improvement."

Harry nodded as his breath returned to normal, which did not take as long this time as last. He realised that was high praise indeed, given the source.

"However, you still do not put forth enough effort....."

"I'm trying my...."

"You are a weak, simple target, and the Dark Lord......"

"best...."

"will easily break down your defences......"

"I know that Voldemort......"

"Do not speak his name......."

"but there's no reason why....."

"Silence!"  Severus thundered. 

Harry gave a slight, involuntary cringe, and said nothing.

Severus pressed his advantage and moved to stand within a few feet of Harry, who was still short enough that he had to look up to him.  "You think you are above reproach, don't you, Potter?" His voice had returned to its customary silky, deceptively soft baritone.  "You have the same arrogance as your father; he was just as simple-minded and shallow as his son. As long as I have had the sincere displeasure of knowing you, you have treated everything like a game, including  your classes, especially Potions.  You endanger the lives of other people, not to mention your own, with your countless pranks and constant disregard for the rules. Your insufferable conduct and pretended application during these Occlumency lessons, as well as neglecting my instructions for you to practice, betrays you as far from diligent."  The harsh, ebony gaze pierced into Harry, daring him to argue.  "The Headmaster did not ask me to teach you this art because he felt I had nothing better to do with my extremely limited spare time.  I shall speak plainly.  In the final analysis, Mr. Potter, it is essential that the Dark Lord not have access to your thoughts, otherwise you place our entire world and existence at risk.  Have you ANY idea how serious this situation is?"  he concluded with a quiet hiss.

Though quite resentful of Severus' insults, Harry found himself rather chastened by the Potion Master's scathing assessment of his character.  He was not certain if he was expected to answer the question, and settled for saying in as a respectful tone as he could manage under the circumstances, "I'm sorry, sir.  I'll try to do better in future."

Severus accepted the response with a curt nod.  Perhaps something of his condemnation would finally get through to the supercilious boy.  No doubt Albus would consider the word choice a bit too critical and severe, but Potter, as his father before him, needed to have his numerous faults exposed, and was in want of discipline if his mind was to be properly trained.  He regarded him intently, noting the obvious fatigue on his student's features.  Well, the evening was getting on; he had two classes' worth of seventh-year essays to grade, and needed to look in on a few potions brewing in the laboratory.  He would soon conclude tonight's lesson, but first, perhaps the time had come for a small test.

"I think that will do for now, Potter.  You may go," he said smoothly.

A brief expression of surprise passed over Harry's face, and his shoulders slumped with unexpected relief.  He was allowed to leave half an hour early?  "Yes, sir," he answered, hardly able to believe his good fortune.

Severus noticed the barely supressed joy in the younger wizard as he turned to face the door.  After a few steps, Potter stopped, and for a few seconds remained standing with his back towards him.  Clearly, he was fighting an internal battle.  The Potions Master allowed himself a smirk, and waited patiently.

Harry turned towards his teacher.  "Sir?"

"What is it?" Severus responded without commitment.

Harry hesitated. Something told him he should leave the office because he was given the chance, and he yet might catch the last of dinner in the Great Hall.  Then again, something else encouraged him to stand by his original decision.  Still a third voice informed him that in this situation there really was no way to win.

"Well?" Severus prompted, careful to keep his voice neutral.

"I know you're busy, but could we try it once more before I leave?"  Harry fervently hoped that he was doing the right thing.  But he also felt confident that he could keep the other man from penetrating his mind, and could disprove those degrading remarks that he had endured concerning himself.

Thoughtfully tracing his upper lip with his right forefinger, Severus scrutinised his pupil. Maybe Potter might not be quite the lost cause, after all.  The boy had plenty of growing up to do, as well as an enormous amount to learn, but willing to work a bit longer, especially when hungry and fatigued certainly denoted an early element of self-discipline, and a small step in the appropriate direction."Very well then, Potter," he answered slowly; the briefest hint of approval in his eyes went unnoticed by Harry.  "However, I want your word that henceforth you will at all times accord the respect due to me as your teacher, and follow all of my instructions to the letter, which include, starting tonight, practicing clearing your mind each night before sleep - _without fail_;" he leaned forward so that his head was within twelve inches of Harry's face as he spoke the last two words, a proximity far too close for the young wizard, who took an unconscious step backwards.  Severus gave an inward, self-satisfied smile, and straightened to resume his considerable height.  "As you have discovered, I shall know if you neglect this task." 

Harry's fury returned, but at least this time he had the sense to momentarily bridle it, and answered calmly, "Yes, sir.  I agree to everything."

The Potions Master nodded, and gestered for Harry to prepare himself.  "Wand at the ready.  One....two.....three...._Legilimens!_"

The boy's fatigue, anger, and anxiety greatly retarded his ability to defend himself properly.  Thus, yet again, Severus was flooded with images from Harry's mind.  _[He provides me with an arsenal to use against him.]  _Potter fighting the dementors in the Muggle world.....His arrival at Grimmauld Place_[Prudent choice on Albus' part for the Order's headquarters, nonetheless it is an insufferable house.]_.....Leaning over a balcony, and staring at - _[I thought I felt his eyes upon me.]_.....Albus defending him at the hearing......Return to Hogwarts.....Detentions with Umbridge_[Her methods are rather excessive, even by my standards.]......[Potter's anxiety seems to increase.]......_Ongoing dreams about the Department of Mysteries.....Formation of Dumbledore's Army and Defense against Dark Arts lessons_[That explains the added nervousness.  Potter, you are indeed arrogant and naive to believe yourself qualified to teach the Dark Arts when you cannot resist even a mild Legilimens spell.  Moreover, you lack subtlety.]....._Sitting with Black and _[Me.] _discussing the Occlumency lessons.....The first lesson_[You were, and I fear, yet remain, pathetic, Potter.]_....The row with Miss. Chang_[Ah, that explains the boy's tardiness last night.]....._Mr. Malfoy following _[Me.] _out of the office_[Potter's anxiety heightenes to near-tolerance levels.  Why is this?]...._O.W.L.s and students on the Hogwarts grounds_[But the images are nebulous - he attempts to fight it, but due to his fear and anxiety, he remains his own worst enemy.]...._A student mocked whilst others laugh_[Who is it?  The image fades, replaced by another, this one slowly appearing much clearer.]...._A pupil hanging upended.  More laughter, as the boy shouts, "_Leviosa!_" after his robes have tumbled over his head, to reveal slender, alabaster legs and black, silk boxer shorts_[WHAAAAAAAAAT? Me as a student, being tormented by James et alia. How could this.....POTTER!]_

"_DISCONTINUARE!_"  Severus bellowed, breaking the spell with unnecessary ferocity.

Harry was knocked flat on his back and skidded several feet to impact with a wall.  Instinctively, he protected his head with his arms, mainly to prevent himself from possibly examining - from the inside - the questionable contents of one of the numerous jars resting on the shelves that lined the office. 

"Explain yourself."  Severus' voice was low and soft, at its most dangerous.

Harry experienced utter terror, and decided to stall for time.  "Sir?"  he replied.

"I suspect we both know to what incident I refer."  The Potions Master slowly closed the distance between himself and his student, often allowing his steps to punctuate his words as he spoke.  "But, for the record, let us have it clear.  Tell me, what transpired in this office last night after Mr. Malfoy and I had gone?"  

"Do you mean the Pensieve, sir?"

"No doubt, that is a prime factor in this equation," came the cold, sarcastic response.

Harry swallowed.

The older wizard snarled impatiently, "Say it, Potter."

For one wild moment, Harry considered uttering the word 'it'.  Obviously, his mind struggled for some form of comic relief.  But not wishing to give his teacher cause to hex him into oblivion, he knew he must confess, the fact that the Potions Master currently possessed awareness of what Harry had done notwithstanding.  "I.....w..went....inside..the...P..P..Pensieve,...sir," he admitted haltingly, silently cursing his inability to hold back his nervous stammer. 

The reply was silky and smooth.  "Did you learn anything?"

Harry, who was still crumpled on the floor, did not expect this, and had been trying to prepare himself for verbal abuse at least, if not having enough house points deducted to end up in negative integers, and detention until he graduated.  Thus caught off guard, he responded lamely, "About what?"

Quelling the urge to bodily hurl the boy up to Gryffindor Tower, Severus, his face white with rage, stood towering over Harry; he suddenly reached down, and very tightly gripping his student's right arm, severely yanked him to his feet.  He then released him with a fierce shove, forcing Harry to take several steps backwards to regain his balance.  Severus took a moment to touch the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, and exhaled an exasperated sigh.  "About your father, and ideally - yourself."

Harry rubbed his arm.  The scenes that he had witnessed in the Pensieve had of course given him cause for consideration.  But at present, his concern with the Potion Master's wrath had, temporarily at least, petrified rational thought. 

"You will not discuss what you saw with anybody," he said vehemently.

"No, sir."

Severus' dark eyes narrowed as he closely surveyed Harry, and said with silky maliciousness, "Be thankful that to guarantee your silence, I do not cast the Obliviate spell on you this instant.  Potter, a word of warning.  Should you elect to share my memories with others, you will be asked the inevitable questions about how you acquired such information, and know that the magnitude of your indiscretion denotes an offence that merits expulsion.  Moreover, should the _injured party,_" Severus raised his right eyebrow, "choose to press charges, you could find yourself enjoying the remainder of your youth in Azkaban."

Harry nodded, rather shaken.  "I won't say anything, sir."

"Then we understand each other.  You may go."

"But I wondered if....."

The Potions Master knew that he was a rapidly boiling cauldron that would soon explode if the boy did not vacate the study within the next few moments.  "Did I not tell you to leave?" he said dangerously.

Harry knew he should go, "Yes, sir."  But first he needed to ask, "Um....my dad...did he...?"  

"Potter," Severus interrupted softly, "you try my patience.  I have suffered more than enough of your insolent arrogance for one evening.  Consider yourself warned."  His velvet voice was laced with acid.  

"It's just that....."

"Get out of my sight! NOW!!" the Potions Master roared with a voice that threatened the foundations of the dungeons. 

As Harry bolted towards the door, Severus threw a jar that smashed near his pupil's rapidly retreating feet, and gave a grim smile of satisfaction as some of the putrid-smelling liquid splashed upon Harry's robes.  However, he restrained himself from jettisoning another jar for good measure.

***************************************************************

The fine cognac swirled lazily in the crystal snifter, first one way, then another.  Within the silence of his rooms in Serpens Tower, Severus passed the vessel under his nose, savouring the ambre liquid's heady, enticing aroma, as it warmed over his hand.  He stretched his long, lean legs languidly, crossing his ankles, reclining farther into the soft, black leather of his chair, and gazed at the glowing fire in the hearth.  His academic robes and frock coat hung neatly in his armoire; thus, his attire consisted of exquisitely tailored black trousers, and a white, silk shirt.  He released the first few buttons at his neck, as he sighed, pondering the evening's events.

Naturally, he must inform Albus; but this could wait until morning, and no doubt, as it was, the both of them had endured a long day.  Much as he was loathe to admit it, the Headmaster would _strongly encourage _him to continue the Occlumency lessons with Potter.  But in view of recent events, the Potions Master seriously questioned his ability to occupy the same room as the boy without cursing him with one of the Unforgiveables........well, no, that was an exaggeration of course.  Nonetheless, he remained furious with Potter's obviously premeditated, insufferable invasion of his privacy.

Severus sipped his cognac, slowly relishing its welcoming, soothing taste for a few moments before allowing it to pass down his throat.  He regretted neither his words nor actions towards Potter - though Albus would probably find some of his phraseology rather harsh, he mused dryly.  Moreover, he was no longer sanguine about his previous thoughts concerning the boy's emotional development; indeed, it was foolish to consider that his student had been making progess.  Still, duty calls, and if Potter keeps his promise to follow instructions and steadfastly practice, with time, he might improve slightly, at least to the point where he presents no telepathic advantage to the Dark Lord.  In that event, the Potions Master will have maintained his self-inflicted ongoing obligation to Albus, and helped to secure the magical world should war actually ensue. 

He breathed deeply, and absently brushed an errant strand of his black, silky hair away from his face.  The night had worn late, but because he did not yet feel the need for sleep, perhaps a bit of reading was in order.  Having caught up with research and grading essays during the intervening hours after dismissing Potter, non-academic material seemed an appropriate closure for the day.  Placing the snifter on a small mahogany table towards his right, he picked up a thick volume of Lord Byron's poetry.   

FINIS


End file.
